Jade Goody, the British reality TV star whose battle against cancer had been followed around the world, has died.

She passed away in her sleep early Sunday – Mother’s Day in the U.K.

Max Clifford, her publicist and friend, confirmed the news to PEOPLE. “She had been pretty much asleep for the last 24 hours,” he says, adding she died “just before 4 o’clock this morning.”

My first response was: “Oh sh*t, it’s mother’s day?” Which might have tainted my overall feelings of remorse over a British reality TV celebrity who wasn’t all that great and wasn’t all that important until she was diagnosed with terminal cervical cancer and died at 27 years old.

Yes, this is a tragedy, but for how many pictures I’ve been getting of people visiting the dead Goody, I can say: goodbye, and let’s move on as fast as possible. There’s just no way to feel good about this situation. I’m not going to pretend to feel bad for a Brit-Celeb who was sometimes racist, mostly dumb and managed to turn her cancer into a media event like a true reality fame whore.

And for those of you Americans that really were tricked into feeling bad for this foreign, second rate Pedro Zamora (at least Pedro had an actual issue to present to the public), think of this: Jade Goody died a relatively quick death from Cervical Cancer while reaping the benefits of being a D-List celebrity. Meanwhile, in 2008, there were 11,070 new cases of cervical cancer in the US and 3,870 deaths. In the UK, the vaccine and checkups for cervical cancer have been consistently going down, meaning women aren’t caring for their own bodies (Goody has seemed to momentarily have raised awareness through further fame-whoring).

I get that this is sad, but what’s supposed to make me care about this particular person who lead a self-centered, mostly self-serving life until cursed with a cancer that could have been prevented or treated through regular checkups?